


Mirror Moves

by Devilc



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Iron Fist (comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Comics, Identity Porn, M/M, Marvel Universe, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-15
Updated: 2010-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-06 08:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny Rand once heard a joke about how kissing is what happens when two people get so close they can't see what's wrong with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror Moves

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Pr0n Battle 8](http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/10575.html). Prompt: Daredevil/Iron Fist, identity

Danny Rand once heard a joke about how kissing is what happens when two people get so close they can't see what's wrong with each other.

Well, Matt's never been able to see what's wrong with him, and they haven't kissed _yet_, but it will happen, because here they are, face to face, lip to lip, feeling each other's breath ghost across that soft pink flesh.

Annnd ... fuck it. Danny makes the first move. Matt's a nice Catholic boy, Danny's not, never has been. He feels the burn of Matt's ginger stubble against his own honey-blond, and Matt's wearing an unflavored beeswax based lip balm (Danny can taste and smell that), and his mouth tastes of sage and thyme and something else that Danny can only call "Matt".

He laughs a little as they part for air, half at himself for cataloging each little nuance just like Matt does, and half with the sheer giddiness of the rush -- Matt's one hell of a kisser.

"Penny for your thoughts." Matt's lips brush against his and he feels the words as hot little puffs of humid air as much as he hears them.

"That you're a hell of a kisser, but you know that I think that already by the way my heart's racing, or the way my breath hitches, or the pitch of my voice. And I'm laughing at myself for paying attention to the fact that you also have a plain lip balm on, and that you ate something with sage in it -- that I'm cataloging all these things, like you. Only in a half-assed kind of way."

Matt smiles. "That's not a half-bad job of thinking like I do, Mr. Rand."

Feather soft, Danny caresses Matt's cheek with his finger. "Like ... your stubble. You're not the first guy to give me whisker burn, but you're the first guy who ever made me notice it -- _appreciate it_.

"I used to think that you lived your life, drowning in sensation --"

"I do."

"That it was all distraction all the time. But now?"

"Hmmn?" Matt turns his head and sucks Danny's finger into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the tip and Danny groans as the blood rushes south and his dick twitches rock hard in his now suddenly too tight jeans. And he shivers inside because he knows that Matt knows all of that, probably could smell that spurt of pre-come, too, and he wonders if Matt's tongue is so sensitive that it can feel the individual ridges of his fingerprint.

"But now?" he says, his voice a low and breathy rush, "I'm thinking that it can be a very good thing to drown in sensation."

Matt kisses him again, hard and devouring, and snakes a hand under the hem of Danny's worn and wash faded T-shirt. Danny feels it brush over every single hair on his torso en route to its teasing a nipple to exquisite hardness. "I'd expect nothing less from the man who assumed my identity.

"It's what I like about you, Mr. Rand. When you put your mind to it, when you're _passionate_ about something, you're incredibly through."

Danny thinks about giving like for like. Thinks about pulling the tail of Matt's dress shirt out of his trousers, and running his own hand under and up, lazily stroking his way up Matt's equally rock hard and sculpted chest, of delighting in the feel of those crisp hairs against his fingers as Matt moaned softly under his breath, of the way Matt's heart would pound, and his muscles would involuntarily flutter as Danny's hand made its way up.

Instead, he puts his hand under his shirt, strokes his way up, teases the silky hairs on Matt's forearm before finally covering Matt's hand with his. "I've got a new sensation for you, then, Mr. Murdock," he says, closing his eyes and smiling against Matt's warm, kiss-swollen lips. Danny lets loose with the thinnest trickle of his Chi. "_The feeling of what it's like to be me_."


End file.
